Boom !

Female Porn

I strongly dislike starting an essay with a disclaimer, but I believe in this instance it is necessary. I shall only defend myself with this single sentence: I am using the art of exaggeration and generalization to communicate more effectively.

Men are visual, logical, and rational. Women are emotional, insightful, and irrational. This plays itself out in a number of ways. We have more male artists, engineers, and world leaders and we have more female nurses, teachers and missionaries.

However, I only want to focus on two of them: the visual and the emotional. All humans crave; for one thing or another, everyone has desire. These differ person to person and from time to time, but here are the crude stereotypes. Men want sex; women want gushy feelings. Or to put it more specifically, males want sex with Megan Fox and females want Prince Charming to fall madly in love with them, swim an ocean for them, and get down on one knee and propose with the most beautiful ring ever.

Society puts the male dream down and exalts the female. As if it somehow is “nobler.”

What is pornography for? Other than being a business, it is made to somewhat satisfy that desire males have. Since he’s not going to get to have sex with Megan Fox, porn lets him get as close as possible and fantasize the rest. Because the male is visual, his porn is a picture of the female body.

What about an equivalent for females? Yes, women can look at porn too, because yes, women can be visual too, but I’m talking about something comparable that appeals to their emotional cravings. I think there is one.

Female porn is the fantasy of the “happily ever after.” It is the chick flick, it is the looking at wedding dresses, engagement rings, it is the dreaming of which house she will have kids in. 

Now where do we stand? Morally, it is okay to look at pornography as long as there is no lust. However, I don’t use that as an excuse to look at porn, because frankly, I don’t trust myself. Besides, why else would I be looking at it, if not to desire it? I say it’s essentially the  same for females. It’s okay to look at wedding dresses and engagement rings and watch chick flicks, as long as there is no fantasizing about it. Boys looking at pinups and wanting them is virtually no different than girls looking at engagement rings and wanting them.

Why do I believe this? One simple word: expectations. When a male looks at porn and fantasizes; once married, he’s going to hope it’s like that. When a female watches a chick flick, looks at dresses and rings and fantasizes; once married, she’s going to hope it’s like that. And let’s be honest! No woman wants to live up to the expectation of a porn star and no man wants to live up to the expectation of Prince Charming. Both will fail.

I want to conclude with a challenge to the unmarried females in my audience. If you don’t want to have to live up to the expectations of a porn star, then don’t form Prince Charming expectations of him. It’s a double standard to want him to not look at porn if you’re not willing to not look at wedding dresses and engagement rings.

The most ironic fact is neither of these things are truly satisfying. They’re not the best aspects about marriage anyway. Marriage is about companionship, and a God-seeking marriage should be about growing closer to God.

In Defense of Planking

What an odd title for an essay, but I must carry on. Recently I have been bashed for a new hobby of mine, namely: planking. A dear English Education major described our entire modern society as “ignorant” because of it and my own flesh and blood that bore me as a babe and breastfed me until I could eat for myself proceeded to describe it as “inane.” Not satisfied with these slights he went even further and decried it as a “pointless time filler.” I shall now attempt my best to defend this ingeniously creative sport.

To begin, it is best to define what planking is. It is the act of lying face down, toes pointed, arms at side, palms facing up, and taking a picture of it. The more creative, random, or risky, the better. But is this really a sport? How is a sport defined? According to my Mac dictionary, a sport is “an activity involving physical exertion and skill in which an individual or team competes against another or others for entertainment.” Planking does require physical exertion, the more extreme planks definitely take skill to perform, the individuals are competing against each other, and it is definitely for entertainment!

Furthermore, according to the International Olympic Committee both chess and curling are considered sports. They require minimal physical activity and are what some call, “sports of the mind”. Planking is a sport of creativity and risk. 

I cannot seriously condemn my friend’s statement concerning society’s ignorance because I do agree that society can be so very unsophisticated much of the time, but as for “inane” and “pointless” I have many words to buffer such a villainous attack! Both are merely stated opinions from specific individuals. Frankly, I perceive golf to be the most inane sport that has ever existed and basketball to be the most pointless. All they’re trying to do is get balls into little holes. At the very least you must concede that is on the same level of inaneness as planking. Furthermore, we don’t spend millions of dollars paying and broadcasting the best “plankers” and spending countless hours watching it; this sport encourages personal physical activity. I have to see my environment, engage it on both a physical and mental level, and find the most imaginative plank.

Part of what is so wonderful about planking is that everyone can participate and do it. It’s not something exclusive that may only be seen on tv or requires equipment and location; anyone may play and take part in it!

To date the best argument against planking is that of danger. An Australian man died falling off a seven story building in attempt of a plank on the railing on the very top. He was fully aware of the risk and went ahead with it, that was the entire point. Danger is a part of many sports, but that doesn’t stop the best. In fact, danger is what separates the best from everyone else. A death, far from stopping others playing the game will make people take it more seriously. I’m careful when I plank, just like I’m careful when I longboard, parkour and play rugby. But I’m still willing to fall, knowing that I’ll get up again and be stronger for it.

Therefore I conclude, is planking inane? Pointless? Perhaps to you, but to me it is pure mad genius.

Darling,

sheafarmer:

I am worried for you. 

I feel inspired to write.

Today has been an interesting day. A wonderful one. It was good, but good in the sense that it was beneficial. I learned a lot about myself and my friends.

For example: I learned I think I need a lot more things than I really do. Before today I was seriously under the delusion that I needed a new Mac, a few L lenses (ha!), an iPad, a new battery and the list it just goes on and on. I had no idea how many times I was saying, “I really need…” and Sara just called me out. “Neeeeeeed?” she would interject. I totes appreciated it; it was very helpful and enlightening. I discovered I would tell myself I needed all this stuff and then when the time came around to buy it, in my mind it would already be justified! “I’ve needed this Wacom tablet for months now!” And that’s how it happens.

I learned I don’t take enough care of my money. I forgot to file my tax refundy thingy and so I didn’t get 153 of my dollars back. A seemingly small accident like hitting a curb while sliding on ice in a parking lot cost me $890 in repairs. I spend way too much money going to the movies and eating out. I tithe ten percent but I waste the other ninety like it grows on trees. And then I wonder why I’m broke and I can’t afford anything.

I learned I’m too critical of others. I learned I’m too critical of myself. I called myself ‘dumb’ a lot today. After a number of times Sara just said, “Luke, stop it. I don’t like it, and I don’t think you’re dumb.” That’s what friends are for! Thank you Sara :)

I learned I’m never happier than when I am with real friends. I video chatted Joseph, Shea and Sara tonight and it was wonderful. I (metaphorically) cannot wait to see them all at the end of the month! We are going to have a blast!

I learned I have prejudices against certain people. And I can’t even figure out why. It’s dumb. My best answer was, “it’s just something about them.” But I’m called to love everyone. Really love them. Father, help me love!

I learned that now I’m addicted to the word ‘fantastic.’ I think this is more Shea Farmer influence, but who knows considering the people I hang out with :D

I learned Friday’s lyrics are more vapid than I previously thought: “7am waking up in the morning.” How redundant is that?

I learned the gardens around the Indianapolis Museum of Art are simply beautiful. I am looking forward to returning there very much! And I shall perform a photoshoot there! Of a pair of Jedi warrioresses. I learned photography is allowed everywhere at IMA except for the fourth floor (contemporary art) and of traveling art (pieces that move from museum to museum). I learned I really want to specialize in time-lapse photography— and perhaps combine that with portrait.

I learned that Dr. Voss is leaving IWU to be the President of SWU. I already knew that he was one of the biggest reasons this university is as great as it is today. It is a great loss. In my ignorant opinion, I think he should be our President.

I learned that I have so much more to learn.

I have a confession.

It’s a long story so I’ll start with the short version.

A short while ago I posted a picture of myself on facebook; a shirtless picture. In it I had some pretty nasty injuries from a longboarding accident, but that was really just an excuse for posting the picture.

I felt stereotyped as a skinny kid. I had heard a number of comments from girls preferring muscular guys slash guys that weighed more than them. I felt degraded, like I wasn’t as attractive because I was skinny. I waited for the right opportunity to show I already had some muscle and I resolved to put on 20 pounds over the summer. I’d already gained 20 pounds of muscle my freshman year but clearly it wasn’t enough. I was going to eat and workout like crazy. I used the longboarding accident as my excuse to post the picture, and gaining weight for rugby as my excuse to build muscle. Ideally should be a few inches taller too, but that’s beside the point.

My confession? I’m a shallow being. I think I’ll have a better chance with the right girl if I’m just a bit more muscular, or if she sees my six-pack, because girls are supposed to be attracted to that, right? Right? I mean, being myself, a nice guy, doesn’t cut it, so what’s missing?

So what’s my resolve? Put an end to the shallowness. Forget about building muscle to show off. In rugby I need to fast, so that’s what I’m going to work on. That means I’ll probably lose a little weight, but it doesn’t  matter. My new goal for the summer is to be able to run 6 miles in under 36 minutes. Not to show off or brag about, but that’s what Zachariah Murphy, our rugby captain, wants the back-line to be able to run by the end of August. So that’s my goal. It will be tough because I haven’t run seriously since 8th grade, but it will be a fun challenge. And I’ll give it my all.

A friend called me out a few days ago.

Between you and me, that’s the sign of a true friend. If they’re willing to tell you something you don’t want to hear and you won’t like, but it’s for your own good. That’s a friend.

He called me out. He told me I should stop trying to be cool. I should stop trying to get other people to like me. I should not care what others think about me; I should just be myself regardless of what others think.

 You know the difference between knowing something and then really knowing it? Actually living by it? Well, it hasn’t clicked yet, but I’m working on it. Truth be told, I do care what others think. Too much. I want people to like me.

Then I began to think, who I am really, regardless of others? To be honest, I don’t know. I feel like I’m pieces of everyone around me. A huge part of me is my mother, my heart and love for people and animals comes from her. Another part is my father; my strategy, my engineering mind, my logic, my tact (lack of) comes from him. Then I see things in people try and become that. Many people have heroes, but I practically worship mine. I want to be an innovator like Steve Jobs. A designer like Jony Ive and Sagi Haviv. An artist like Jonathan Duncan and Dan Martin. A man like Severus Snape, Fitzwilliam Darcy and George Knightley rolled into one. I want to invent like Nikola Tesla.

What does that make me? Well, from my point of view, nothing but a whole bunch of dreams and ambition. Maybe figuring out who I am is something I’ll never figure out. Maybe I’m not supposed to know who I am, and only God will really know.

But that lead to further thought.. what if I am just a shallow human that only wants to be cool and have other people like him? What if that’s really just who I am?

And then I happened to listen the song You Are More by Tenth Avenue North again.. but this time it came to have a new meaning. While I was asking, “who am I?” (aside from the sunday-school answer, “you’re a child of God”) the chorus answers:

You are more than the choices that you’ve made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You’ve been remade.

It doesn’t entirely answer the question. But it helps. Because for such a long time, even though I knew the sunday-school answer, I sub-consciously thought of myself as a sum of my accomplishments minus my mistakes. I don’t know, I’m still figuring it out. If I can.

But for now, I’ll try to just be myself, regardless of what others think. But that’s weird, because at the same time I’m trying to die to myself, so that Christ will live through me. Arg, it’s so complicated, I can’t understand it. God help me, please.

Please.